


Hot Chocolate

by S_Faith



Category: Bridget Jones's Diary - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-30
Updated: 2009-03-30
Packaged: 2019-11-21 17:17:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18145130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Faith/pseuds/S_Faith
Summary: Light and fluffy, like a good steamed-milk hot cocoa.Disclaimer: I think we've thoroughly established that this isn't mine.





	Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> Light and fluffy, like a good steamed-milk hot cocoa.
> 
> Disclaimer: I think we've thoroughly established that this isn't mine.

"Here's your coffee."

Reclined against the pillows in bed, Mark looked up from his newspaper and up at Bridget, looking adorable in a too-large robe, a mug in each hand. He smiled and set the paper aside, then reached for the mug she held out to him. "Thank you so much."

"Of course," she said, pushing her hair back with her now-free hand, then went around to crawl back in bed next to him, carefully holding her drink so as not to slosh it over the side.

He took a sip of his coffee. "Magnificent."

He reached for the paper again, but she stayed his hand. "Oh no you don't."

"What?"

"We're on holiday. The outside world can bugger off," she retorted, taking the paper up in a bunch and threw it over the side of the bed. "Drink your coffee, and I'll have my chocolate."

"Yes ma'am," he said with a smirk, then took a sip. With a devilish smirk, he then regarded her, saying, "Maybe I should ask what will happen if I don't."

"You should ask what _won't_ happen if you don't."

He set down the coffee cup, then turned back to her with a challenging gaze, leaning back against the headboard. "What won't happen?"

Very seriously, she reached over and set her own mug down on next to his on the bedside table.

"This. This will not happen."

She loosened the tie of her robe.

Fighting a smirk, he said, "Hm. That would be tragic."

"Nor this," she said. She got up on her knees and pulled aside one half of the robe enough to show a tantalising glimpse of breast.

"I suppose I had better get to drinking."

"Hold on," she said; "it's very hot, and I'm not done with the demonstration."

She crawled forward, slapping his knees so that he'd put them down. She then straddled his lap and sat down.

"Hm," he said. "You make a compelling argument."

She giggled. "Thought you'd think so."

"So I wouldn't get to do this?" he asked in all seriousness, running the pad of his index finger just inside the edge of the robe, along her skin.

"No," she said, smiling perkily, shaking her head. "Not at all."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, trailing down to her waist, tugging at the sash. "Especially since that means _this_ would be completely forbidden."

"Absolutely."

He pushed aside the terrycloth robe to reveal bare legs and no pants. "And I'd never be able to do this," he said with a devilish smile, moving his fingers to brush over her navel.

"Certainly not."

"Or this." His fingers ran down over the curve of her stomach to trace lazily along her inner thigh.

She shook her head and smiled, drawing her lower lip between her teeth, her lids flickering at the light touch.

Abruptly he drew his fingers away, saying, "Well. Suppose the coffee's cool enough to drink now."

"Oh, no, far too hot still," she said, scooting forward, "and I don't believe that you're properly motivated yet to drink it all." She moved her hands to rest on his hips. "You don't want to spill hot coffee in your lap, do you?"

"Spill it where exactly?" he returned, his eyes twinkling, his hands running up her arms to her shoulders, spreading the robe open wider.

"Your lap," she said. "You know, here," she said, her fingers moving to his own thighs. "And here." They then traced over against his very firm self. "Would be tragic."

"Mm," he concurred, low in his throat.

She leaned forward, still with that impish grin on her face, touching her nose to his, teasing him with a kiss that was not to be. "Very hot."

"Best way to have it." He slipped his hands under her robe and took hold of her around the waist, pulling her up against him, then dipped one hand down between her legs. "Very hot indeed."

The sound she made was somewhere between a giggle and a purr, then she gasped as he moved his fingers over her. "I'm afraid your coffee may over-cool," she informed him.

"Oh?"

"Mm, yes," she said. "There's something you need to do first."

He chuckled, grabbing her hips. "Ah. So there is."

She lunged forward and covered his mouth with her own, taking him in hand, lifting up slightly on her knees just enough to descend onto him, breaking that barely-started kiss to sigh in a most satisfied manner.

"Better than coffee anyway," he murmured, slipping the robe down over her arms, which she lowered to let the robe slip off of her before leaning forward to she kiss him again, threading her fingers into his hair. He could feel her giggle before starting to move in earnest.

This, of course, took him out of the present completely; he only thought of her touch, her body moving with his, her lips on his, her fingers on his skin. In reflex he lifted his knees slightly to buck up into her with each downward motion. The feel of her hot breath on his neck as she came closer and closer to losing herself, of her nails digging into his shoulders, utterly fuelled his passion, just as he knew his own movements were driving her on.

With a final buck forward she cried out, and he could feel that moment of climax; he clenched his hands on her hips and pulled her into him. Within moments it triggered his own.

Her breathing slowed; her muscles went slack and she leaned forward against him, pressing her lips against his collarbone, sighing contentedly. "Definitely better," she said.

"Mm," he concurred. After tenderly running his hands over her sweat-sheened back, he reached out casually for the nightstand, slipped his hand against the ceramic of the mug. "Ah. Just about perfect now."

She reared up, saw he had his hand on his coffee mug and burst out laughing, bending forward to peck him on the lips. "I guess you've earned it, my love."

He grasped the cup and brought it to his lips, took in a long draw of the deep, rich coffee. "I might be somewhat affected by post-coital bliss," he said, "but this might very well be the best coffee I've ever had." 

She giggled. "Can you reach mine?"

"Here." He handed her his coffee, then leaned to the side to reach for her cup, holding her tight around the waist as he took her cup's handle and sat upright again. "There you are."

She slipped from his lap to sit beside him, curled in the crook of his arm. They sat there cuddled with their cups together, sipping in comfortable, warm silence, until she raised her face to look up at him. "Hmm," she said. "I want more chocolate."

He raised his free hand to stroke her hair, chuckling. "I suppose that's better than wanting a cigarette." He reached to put his empty cup on the nightstand.

"This has gone cool and sludgy."

"I have never heard you complain about chocolate before."

She went to raise her cup to show him just how cool and sludgy it had gone when it slipped out of her hand, causing some of the chocolate to spill out and not only splash on the sheets, but splatter on her chest.

"Oh, _bollocks_ ," she said, handing him the mug then wiggling away from him to head for the loo.

"Hold on," he said as he grasped her upper arm, then, as she looked to him, raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps I'd like some chocolate, too."

She began giggling again as he pushed her flat against the pillow, then bent his head. With long, languid strokes along her skin, he licked up the spilt chocolate, paying particular attention to her breasts; specifically, the hard points of her nipples. It was high-quality chocolate and he was very thorough in his duty; she quickly moved from laughter to desperate moaning.

He lifted his head, watched her raising her chin towards the sky, arching her back up into him. "That was very good," he said. "Think I'd like more."

He reached for the cup, turned it sideways just enough to drizzle a fine line on her belly, then flattened his tongue against her and licked along that line, causing her to writhe under him.

"Mmm," he said against her skin. "There's just a bit more. Might as well finish it off." Gently he grasped her hip and turned her to lie on her stomach; then, holding the cup up once more, drew a fine spiral of chocolate on the curve of her backside.

Taking hold of her hips, he placed his mouth over his design, swirled his tongue around, then grazed his teeth against her skin. Between ragged breaths she made soft sounds of approval, and when he gently drew the skin between his teeth for a soft nip, she cried out his name.

"I think that takes care of the chocolate," he said throatily. "Now for you."

He pushed her legs apart then glided eager fingers between them, causing her to clutch at the bed linens, moving her hips up into his touch. As his movements intensified, she groaned and whimpered, pressing her cheek into the pillow, alternately begging him not to stop and for more. At last he drew his fingers away and leaned forward to place a kiss on the small of her back, then another between her shoulder blades. He ran his fingers over her arse, to her hips, encouraging her to lift up before returning to between her legs, eliciting a shudder from her, then thrust into her, which caused her to draw in a sharp breath then cry out.

Once more, his only thought was to make her feel good as he drove forward again and again, hands firmly on her hips to pull her into him. Even with this goal in mind his release found him quickly and forcefully, and he groaned as he arched into her and came.

With the way she was hoarsely calling out his name, he knew she was very close to climax herself; he continued to move in her, and to help her along, he slipped his hand down between her and the sheets. From the moment his fingertips brushed against the sensitive nub of nerves she made a whimpering sound, and as he pressed into her in counterpoint he felt the whole of her body tense up until she came with a great cry.

The one thing he did not care for with this particular position was that it was nigh on impossible to capture her mouth as she called out in her release (which he loved doing), so he did the next best thing: he drew from her, turned her over, pulled her up against him and kissed her thoroughly, running his hands up and down along her body. She giggled into his mouth and rolled over until she was atop him, then raised her head back to look at him, her hair dangling down into his face.

"Love you," she said, "even if you did leave me all sticky with chocolate."

With his fingers dragging on the slightly tacky spot on her behind that he'd only just sullied with said chocolate, he chuckled too, then lunged forward to kiss her again. "Well, they do have these things called showers, with hot running water, and…"

"…and we should eventually leave our room," she admonished playfully, "so they can change these chocolaty sheets."

_The end._


End file.
